The Prince's Broken Promises

had one unbreakable

nto families of

xcep

nes did not mix with

ara Vance, "E

of the French Quarter, my voice

x III was the heir, their

me sing o

saw

decided the Devereaux rul

s and Camille Dever

stain on their

, he stood f

them he

em he woul

me, Beau face

from the family fortune, a vast

money, no mor

r, orchestrated a

charity ball, she announced Be

ice, meant to sham

ook the verbal lash

later, his e

ose, his hands

la, always," he vowe

o can change th

ieved

arm fire against t

held onto my grandmother's silve

vereauxs cha

ed to softe

rick, a new ki

Beau an

t first, he had to s

heir, a child born fr

of their

me, his face

about the

me to un

nger, baby," he pleade

get them off our backs. Then we c

art b

le woman

trayal, but his e

sactional relationship

hern family, polished, ambitious, a

annah was

er, Charlott

d a part of him seemed to

ger" stretched

irth, the Devereaux

wante

uld truly solidify the

of legacy, Ca

ure on Be

tant, his charmi

to me le

weight of his wor

e' d whisper, holding me t

tle more ti

lt like a f

n his life, the mother of his chil

e shadow

Charlotte fell

ic reaction, th

d the Devere

er and cruel,

erything, plan

ine near Cha

ered the child days before,

pointed

ion, screaming at me, accusing me

ails across her arm and

d Camille w

dchild, endangered

n old, unheated guesthouse on thei

eans, a damp, biting cold

ne, the chill r

n they dragged me

face pale, his

n't st

st wa

esthouse door, not to fr

was cold

ked, his words lik

hurt my child

rt sha

ild. N

omise, "It's you an

n the freezing roo

d, my voice trembling from cold an

with a pain I couldn't decipher, a p

d away, leaving me in th

I felt, it all began to crumble

couldn't d

he compromises

s too

to g

a message to Ca

r I wante

a part of Beau's life, or

her help t

ow a sliver of decency, a touch of reli

e guesthouse, her expression a

nally had enough?" she sneered, her

nough to realize yo

he sparse, cold roo

e people just don't

asn't kind. It was the relief of

ore than an inconvenien

weapon, and she wielded it

slightly better conditions after my "decis

ttle Charlotte at a hi

g, the perfect D

harlotte, Beau' s arm poss

, but he was pl

otten, locked away, while the "Prince of P

with a dull,

claration of where

whenever our paths accidentally crossed in the main house b

ed near me, Beau would tense,

er, a subtle gesture tha

minant, a threat to his car

w their way was another small

ss around them, and I wa

ne with me, his eyes filled with a conf

ant, not really," he'd say

y parents. For the business.

hollow, like

heart was still mine, that this c

by her side, the family they were build

ween us, or perhaps he chose to ignor

k that?" I cried out one day, my voice raw with frust

l. I would never, ever d

needed him to believe me, to see

t, his trust in me eroded by his family

could see a flicker of it,

nd new ways

cket. Beau had told her, in a moment of ca

red into the guesthouse,

aring it.

eet. "As an apology for all the trouble you've caused, El

mother' s love, arou

harp, pierced th

ignificance, his casual cruelty in g

history, my family, the only tangible pie

y discarded, easily given to the woman w

a deliberate act of invalidating

ing me, pie

ury in my eyes and

"It's rather pretty, isn't it? Thou

perate to reclaim th

k, Savannah!

ed backward, a theatrica

ble, then crumpled to the f

eyes wide with feigned terror. "M

rushed in, drawn

n the floor, me s

contorted

the hell d

d speak, he s

ing against the sharp mar

oded behi

t even gla

oncern was

his voice frantic. "A

perfectly. "She pushed me, Beau.

his arms, his face a mas

Ella," he spat, h

sumably to the hospital, leaving me bleeding

oned.